Hunter
by Ryoukko-kai
Summary: Sometimes, the hunter is not who he seems.  A Kaname 'Sniper' Hagiri  character study of sorts.  Takes place right as Sensui is trying to recruit him. Oneshot


I don't really know what inspired it, or even what this is. I suppose it's a Kaname Hagiri character study-ish thing, but...I dunno. The inspiration parakeets struck, though, and I had to!

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The first things that he noticed about the teen were his lavender eyes. Although they were bright, attentive, they had a certain coldness about them, as though there was no fire in him. His face was expressionless, displaying a nonchalance that was bordering on uncanny. It was as though he simply didn't care. Those orchid eyes were a bit narrow; not enough to be readily noticeable but enough to leave the impression of a hunter to the man. Ebony bangs hung in front of his eyes, doing little to lighten the severity of his appearance, uncharacteristic for such an indifferent look. The rest of his onyx hair was slicked back with gel, although some of it had come loose in the back, as though it had been tousled by the wind. His hair was worn short, tapering down in the back to where it was little more than halfway down his neck. Even with the ruffled look to his stick-straight hair, he still appeared well-groomed. 

His pale skin bespoke many hours spent indoors. The teen's face was thin, making his cold eyes appear a bit too large for his head at times when he was surprised or frightened. In all actuality, he was of medium height, although he was considered tall by many. Despite his height, he was of slight build. He was skinny, a bit more than what was healthy, and he had thin shoulders that, coupled with his fair skin, would've given him an almost scholarly look were it not for his attire, which no respectable scholar would be caught dead wearing, and those icy eyes.

His dark blue jeans were a bit too big for him, even though the length was right. Were it not for some careful stitches, the pants would probably fall right off his slender waist. He wore a pair of low, scuffed brown boots that seemed to have been designed for combat or bike riding. An unusual crimson jacket was worn overtop a thin white shirt that was far too loose and hung past his jean pockets. The jacket had baggy sleeves that reached to his thin wrists, and two large pockets rested over his breast. The collar on it was high, and, oddly enough, two beltlike straps ran in front of his neck. His coat was cut high, stopping around the bottom of his ribcage. The whole look was topped off by a pair of biker gloves worn on his calloused hands.

Those who had spent time in his company, though, knew more than just a distant teen with a rather exotic appearance. They had seen those purple eyes light up with joy, a wide and slightly crooked grin spread over that ashen face. They had heard the warm laughter that spilled out of him at the successful completion of a friend's prank or perhaps at a well-told joke. There was no doubt at all that despite his heartless look, he was quite expressive, if one got to know him. He was still by no means outgoing, and he did have a tendency for brutal realism even in the most lighthearted of times, but he was a fine companion, if one wasn't too keen on conversation. Of course, the one watching him couldn't know that, but it was unlikely that he would have changed his mind even if he had.

He stood with an air of pride about him, although it was hard to notice, what with his completely unfazed attitude. His hands rested comfortably at his sides, and he barely moved. The teen didn't fidget or shift his weight at all; highly unusual for someone his age, which seemed to be in the mid to late teens. Despite his inaction, the way he held himself hinted that the slightest provocation could cause him to explode into movement. His long legs could easily carry him away from any conflict that he could not avoid. The teen didn't seem a fighter at all. Once again, the mental image of a hunter seemed more appropriate. Even his voice, a deep baritone, was hushed, like the hunter he appeared.

It was ironic how soon the hunter would become the hunted, Sensui mused.


End file.
